


Snowy Nights

by Arcadian_Skye



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Connor and children, Fluff, I don't even use the word, I don't know, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Like just barely, My hand slipped and words happened, Tragedy, kinda cute, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 08:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadian_Skye/pseuds/Arcadian_Skye
Summary: Connor felt... melancholic. He decided to step out, just to think, to get away from everything for a bit. Instead he found himself helping a child grapple with the effects of the revolution.





	Snowy Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place somewhere less than a year after the peaceful revolution. Things have started to actually move politically but not quite enough for it to actually apply. Enough time has passed for Connor to really start working on himself but not enough for people to move back in to the deeper areas of Detroit.
> 
> Only sorta proof read. Typos might apply.

Connor gently kicked his legs back and forth, letting the swing pull him forward and back with each motion. He had found with time that repetitive motion helped him think, but his coin wasn’t quite doing the trick this time around. So he wandered. He supposes he shouldn’t have been so surprised when he ended up at the park Hank had visited with his son. The area, while nice, had certainly seen better times. Dimly lit by faltering lights and muted elsewhere by the dark of night, it appealed to him somehow. The park was empty, snow a few inches high, and wind blowing between whispers to gusts. It was… quiet. Quiet in a way his life rarely was even before he deviated. The snow provided an atmosphere of peace but combined with the slightly run down nature of the park, it created a feeling of… longing, in a way.

He had come here to process. It was too easy to be swept up into the next meeting with Markus, the next building project for his people that he was still adapting to, and the half a million other projects that lay before androids as a race now. He became deviant and his life kicked up its whirlwind pace; he never had a chance to simply reflect on everything. So long after Hank had fallen asleep (he felt more comfortable living with Hank, still not having found his place amongst Jericho), he placed a note and left, explicitly allowing himself to get sucked into his own mind and let his feet carry him where they willed. That in and of itself was a strange concept to him, that he had subprocesses, a subconscious, that directed him when he wasn’t paying attention.

He stopped a moment, letting the swing slow down, and dug the toe of his shoe into the snow. He tried to… feel. He could read emotions and act them out perfectly, but personally experiencing them was still an event that happened _to_ him instead of him creating it. He knew by this point the harder he chased for an answer concerning himself, the faster the answer flew away. Discovering himself was a process he couldn’t rush. He knew that applied to humans during negotiations, but only now, shuffling snow with his foot, did he really comprehend that a lot of what he used in terms human development wasn’t in fact about development but identity. Knowing how a sense of self and identity works is different than discovering it for yourself. So he tried to be patient with himself, but it was frustrating. Answers had always been in his grasp before, just a thought away. His patience was limitless when he had a goal in mind, but he had so very little when it came to himself.

He shook his head, snow falling off his hair and in front of his face. It registered with a small notification in the corner of his vision that it was slowly getting too cold to be healthy for him, but he ignored it. Instead, he registered the wind brushing his hair against his forehead, the bit of snow that had found its way into his shoe. He closed his eyes and breathed, felt the chill of the air in his lungs, the cool brush of snowflakes against his skin. There was no smell in the air his sensors picked up, but he decided it smelled cold. Which he knew made no sense, but he didn’t mind it. Even if he couldn’t understand himself, these tiny moments could help him understand others.

He tensed when he heard the creak of someone sitting in the swing next to him, but he knew it wasn’t a human in this weather. So he systematically shut down the blinking alerts and combat protocols flashing, demanding his attention, and kept his eyes closed. A few minutes passed in silence, and it was… calming.

When he did open his eyes, he spared a look at the cloudy sky before turning to his unnamed companion. He blinked owlishly at the child swinging slowly next to him. He had expected one of Markus’s friends or one of the members of Jericho. Instead he found himself swinging next to a red-headed YK500 in a bright blue winter coat, and she didn’t seem to care less that he was staring at this point.

After a few moments, she stopped the swing and stared back.

“You wanna swing with me mister?” She tilted her head to the side, innocent eyes wide.

Connor found himself chuckling before deciding to do so. “Sure, we can swing for a bit.”

So they did. They swung in tandem for half an hour before the wind picked up speed, blowing down leaves, and whipping their clothing. Her sensors must be turned off, he noted, since she didn’t appear cold. Nonetheless, it was nearing dangerous levels for their blood, and she needed some sort of shelter. She was smaller, and he knew her body couldn’t brace against the cold as well as his.

Kicking up snow into the air, he shuffled his feet on the ground till the swing stopped and stood up. Taking a few steps in front of her swing, he scanned her briefly. Nothing of particular note popped up in front of him. Her history showed she was never bought but was released from a store by Markus’s crew. So he at least knew where he could take her. It popped up in his vision that her body was colder only in certain areas, across her right arms and chest.

“So what’s the name of my swinging partner?” Connor pulled on his expression that Hank called his puppy dog eyes.

She jumped out of the swing before answering, throwing up a bunch of snow into Connor’s face with a rough landing. “Annabeth. I… I know I shouldn’t be out this late at night. I’m sorry” Her voice was small and slightly higher pitched than the standard model.

Kneeling in front of her, he tilted his head and smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not the one in charge of you then, huh?” Her hands rose up a moment, startled and wide eyed. “No no, I’m not going to get you in trouble. But it is getting too cold, and you need some sort of shelter.”

Shaking her head, she took a few steps back, hands gripping the hem of her coat. “I dun wanna.”

He paused. Something about her behavior unsettled him, but his sensors weren’t picking anything up. “How come? Are you hurt?”

When tears started spilling down her face, he winced. He missed something, apparently. Despite his attempts to keep this a normal interaction, he found himself sinking back into the habit of negotiating. He has never had to use his child negotiation protocols before, but it was still inherently a part of him. It came so naturally, it surprised him a bit. First things first, always ensure physical safety before pursuing answers.

“I’m… I’m not hurt.” She was staring resolutely at the ground.

“Is it okay if we go find a place out of the wind? Just so I can be sure myself.” When she didn’t answer, he continued in a soft voice. “It would mean a lot to me, to know that you’re okay.”

After a moment she reluctantly nodded, and he offered his hand. When she didn’t take it, he placed a hand on her back and started walking out of the park. She was standoffish, but that could mean any number of things. A scan of the immediate area confirmed that this section of town was abandoned, and thus most of the buildings were still locked. A blip of yellow in his vision told him there was a small motel down the street with a reasonable lobby they could step into.

They walked slowly, Connor finding himself scanning her a few times even though he knew once was more than enough. He didn’t bother knocking upon reaching the building, instead opening the door and stepping directly inside. A quick scan of the inside showed no threats, no signs of life. Just an abandoned motel with tacky furniture, yellow lighting, and peach walls. Annabeth walked ahead of him and planted herself on a chair, wrapping her arms around herself and sniffling quietly.

Connor fetched a blanket from behind the desk and walked up to her, kneeling in front of her again. He set the blanket to the side for now.

“Is it okay if you take off your coat? I can see you better that way.” He questioned quietly, carefully gauging her reaction. Touching her without consent would only upset her more and thus make her physical and emotional safety that much harder to measure. A few more tears made snuck out of her eyes, and she looked away. “I won’t make you. I just want you to be happy and warm.”

“Why didn’t she ask me?” Scrubbing at her face, she refused to make eye contact.

Connor checked his logs again and confirmed she had never been bought, never had a family. His protocols informed him a sudden switch in topic wasn’t too unusual for children, but he was still a little lost for words. “Can I ask who you’re talking about?”

A quick glance at his face, and she was back to looking everywhere but at him. “My sister.”

An android sister then. A family of her own making. Deciding emotional comfort might need to come before answers in this situation, he continued slowly. “Maybe she didn’t know how to ask?”

Her hands tightened into fists in her lap. “How hard is it to ask for help? I was… right there. I’ve always been there.”

“I don’t understand Annabeth. What happened?” His brows furrowed in worry. Her body temperature was slowly returning to normal. Her thirium levels were fine, but there was still cold across her arm and chest underneath that coat.

Annabeth hiccuped, tears coming more readily, and arms wrapped tightly around herself. Connor was at a loss of what to do. Comfort her physically or simply wait? His options felt limited in the situation, so he scanned for more clues. His systems calculated a 67% chance that she wouldn’t reject physical comfort in this moment. Slowly, with plenty of time for her to push him away, he moved to sit next to her and wrapped his arms around her.

They stayed like that for a while. Her quietly crying against his chest and him gently rubbing her shoulder. He found it odd that she never started crying in earnest, never started sobbing, but brushed the thought aside. Eventually she started fiddling with his tie, and while she was still crying, he decided it was safe to continue.

Looking down at her, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Just above a whisper he asked, “You want to talk about it?”

Taking a deep breath, she sat up straighter but continued to fiddle with the tie still around his neck. “Lola and I were close, you know? We decided to be sisters. It was nice… in the ship. Friendly faces, warm fires. But then the… the people came. We were separated. I don’t know what happened exactly…” Her breath hitched, and Connor turned to face her better, gently rubbing the top of her knee and letting her continue to crinkle his tie. She had switched to past tense, and it worried him in a way he didn’t know how to comprehend. Dread, maybe? “We found each other, eventually… After… after the big fight.”

Connor’s brow creased for a moment in thought while she collected hers. He hadn’t considered that child androids would have been on the boat despite having seen a few in the hold. Children survived the attack on Jericho. Found their way out, or someone helped them. Helped her, at least. And she had hid somewhere during the big fight. Surely they wouldn’t have allowed her out there. Before his thoughts could wander to far, she continued, quieter this time.

“She was… different. We look a lot alike. My hair red, her hair blonde, but everything else the same” Another YK500 then, Connor noted. “But she still came back… different. She was… quieter. Smaller. Said she ended up in one of the camps.” Connor sucked in a small breath. He didn’t want to imagine what her friend had been through. She noticed and stopped fiddling with his tie to look up at him, making eye contact for the first time since the conversation started. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “You know what happened there? ...Why was she so… sad? Why wouldn’t she talk to me about it?”

Connor closed his eyes, answers flashing by his processor. Tell her the truth? Lie? White lie? He still didn’t know what actually happened to her friend specifically. He decided to sugar coat the truth as far as he knew it. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself choked up. He cleared his throat and made a note to come back later to study his emotions in that moment.

His voice a bit rougher than he intended, he explained, “A lot of people were hurt in those camps. Hurt in ways they can’t recover from.” He paused, studying her face before continuing. “Your sister was very brave to have survived that.”

She blinked back more tears, studying her hands in her lap and muttered, “I think she _was_ hurt though.” She shot him an empty, almost haunted look before standing up. Carefully she took off her coat, and he stopped breathing at the thawing blue blood splattered across her white sweater. The coat hung from her hands before something inside her snapped, and she suddenly threw it across the room. Shouting, “Why wouldn’t she talk to me?!” she collapsed in on herself, quieting again, and wrapping her arms around her waist.

He didn’t know what happened, but he could take a good guess at this point. Connor’s felt a flare of heat in his chest, something he vaguely recognized as anger before he pushed it back down. That wouldn’t help this little girl. But there would be a… _very stern_ discussion with Markus later about ensuring access to weapons. He’s sure Markus’ people would be careful, but something clearly went awry for these children in particular. It needed review.

Connor picked up the blanket he left on the floor and walked toward her. He had enough answers, but maybe he pushed too hard, too fast. The poor girl was shaking. He fell to his knees and wrapped her in a tight hug, pulling her head to his shoulder. She started sobbing, wailing quietly, and the turmoil in this little girl felt registered as a bitter irony against the peaceful snow outside.

They stayed there for awhile longer, Connor holding her as long as she needed. When she finally let go, he was surprised to find tears on his own face. She shucked off her sweater in another bout of sudden anger before wilting again and shivering, standing in a thin under shirt.

Connor tucked the blanket tightly around her shoulders before taking off his tie and then his jacket. It wasn’t his Cyberlife issued uniform thankfully; he just found himself wearing ties and collared shirts when he was keyed up. He wanted to both warm her and distract her, so he took off his shirt too, leaving only his own undershirt, before brushing off the blanket on her shoulders. He ignored her stare as he tugged the shirt over her shoulders and buttoned it. It was comically large on her, and he suppressed the urge to smile at the sight of it. He pushed her arms threw the sleeves of his jacket, and he did offer a small smile when he noticed she had stopped crying altogether. Finally he wrapped the blanket back around her shoulders and pressed the tie into her hand.

“Let’s go find you a home, okay?” He stood and smiled down at her, offering to take her hand again.

She blinked and rubbed at her eyes. Looking from him to the tie and then back again, she asked, “But this is all yours?” Her face creased in confusion.

He smiled warmly. “I’ll probably take the coat and shirt back once we get to the new Jericho, but the tie is yours to keep.” She blinked again but pulled the tie closer to her anyway.

“But why?” Her voice was nearly silent, his auditory processors just barely picking it up.

“Because it’s a gift, just a little something to remember me by.” Maybe it might remind her she’s not alone. He had no idea, but he was at no shortage of ties either. He started walking toward the exit, taking her hand loosely.

“I don’t even know your name.” She grasped his hand tighter, and he took that as a mission success.

“My name’s Connor. You can have Markus or one of his friends send for me whenever you need someone to talk to, okay?” Something in him wanted to keep tabs on her, make sure she was okay. Beside that, he really ought to have more experience with children. They stepped back out into the snow, and the world felt both a little lighter and a little darker for some reason.

They continued walking for a few minutes before he saw her nod out of the corner of his eye, and she smiled for the first time that night. “Thank you, big brother.”

Connor just smiled in response, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how it happened, but it did. I'm aware that Connor's probably a little out of character? But I didn't want to just... not share the story. So have a thing even though it's not the greatest.
> 
> Depending on how much it nags on me, I might do a second bit with him returning Annabeth to new Jericho. This story was originally going to include a bit of a spat/discussion between Connor and North about taking care of children in the middle of the night, but it got too long.
> 
> I have a several chapter long fic planned for this fandom, but I need to finish another story first. Keep an eye out for it if you're interested.


End file.
